Snow Fell 1965.

Snow fell; 

slow at first, 

then faster, 

becoming deeper 

as I walked 

to the train station. 

The building site 

where I’d been sent 

had been empty, 

no one had arrived 

in my half hour wait, 

so I picked up 

my work bag 

and walked back 

to the station 

when the snow began. 

By the time I got 

on the platform 

I was covered in snow 

as were some others 

who had been 

caught out in it. 

I waited for the next train 

and gazed at the snowflakes 

still coming down 

with a faster flow, 

making it white 

even on the tracks. 

I lit a cigarette 

and stood there smoking, 

watching the continuing 

fall of snow. 

That night the boss 

on the phone 

wanted me to go there 

the following day 

even though I told him 

what happened; 

I said I wouldn’t go 

and hung up. 

Next day 

I got another job, 

closer to home, 

but still having the darn snow, 

but no train journey 

to contend with 

on the way, 

and far less journey 

to go.